Ready, Red
by Ponyboy '92
Summary: AU: When the man proclaimed 'I must be sane', Sasori replied 'Yes, in your head at best.' :ItaSaso, Prequel to Bomber, Baby:


**Re****a****d****y****, Red**

RuneMoon, _this_ is for you! One ItaSaso in the Bomber, Baby universe.

And for the people who might not know, this is the **prequel** for a DeiSaso fanfic I wrote called Bomber, Baby. You don't need to read it, since this can stand alone quite well actually.

And, wow, this got seriously long before I really thought about what I was doing. Man, where does the time go? But, anyway, normally when I write super long one-shots like these, the setting only takes the course of one day within a couple of hours. This, however, _insists_ on being different, so several days, in fact, pass by in the fic. I'm only saying this because no matter what, there will _always_ be that one person who says "They're going too fast!" which I find to be helpful (most of the time), but mostly unnecessary.

Have a fun read!

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

"Did you hear?" a woman asked excitedly as she and her best friend entered a small toy shop. Her friend blinked.

"Hear what?" she asked.

"Rumor has it that the man who caused the entire Uchiha genocide escaped!"

"No way! Really?"

The first woman shrugged. "I'm not too sure, since it's only a rumor. But all the attention it's getting _must_ mean that it's somewhat true! Geez Sakura, for having gone through that entire police training, you sure are out of touch when it comes to crime!" she scolded.

Sakura Haruno laughed. "Oh stop Ino! You know and I know how tight secrets are kept in that station! It's a miracle that I have you to tell me the latest news in the city and state!"

Ino Yamanaka sighed. "But still Sakura… I won't be here forever to help you out, you know! So pick up a newspaper and research the world for yourself… Oooh! Isn't this absolutely _precious_?" she squealed, picking up a wooden pig doll from one of the shelves and holding it up.

Sakura smirked. "Yeah… for you. It matches!"

"Oh shut it, you billboard!" Ino observed the pig, moving its various joints around and testing its flexibility. "Wow, his stuff gets better every time I come here!"

"Why thank you," a smooth, sinister voice said from behind the two women. "I like to think so myself as well, actually."

Ino turned around slowly. "Uh, h-h-hi Mr. Sasori!" she stuttered.

A grotesque man sat behind the wooden counter of the shop, his black eyes beady and unwavering, his body large and hunched over, and his skin brown and almost stained looking. Three strips of hair were brushed back against his almost bald head, and a black bandana covered the bottom half of his face.

They called him Sasori.

"Hello yourself, Miss Yamanaka. Do you plan on purchasing that today?" Sasori asked politely.

Ino nodded uncertainly. "Um, yes, I would, please…" she answered, handing the man the puppet quickly.

Sasori chuckled, sending chills of fear down both ladies' spines. "Oh, no need to be so frightened… You act as though I might eat your children." A smirk was apparent in the tone of his voice. He bagged the puppet and handed it to the blonde, who took the bag and almost threw him the money.

"H-have a great day, Mr. Sasori!" she muttered, walking out the store quickly. Sakura, instead, looked at Sasori with a glare.

"Mr. Sasori, that was exceedingly _rude_ of you. Honestly, you knew she was going to react that way, so why did you do it?" she snapped.

Sasori laughed lowly. "How old are you again, Miss Haruno?" he asked cockily.

The pink-haired woman frowned. "Twenty-one, and why do you ask sir?" she replied.

The man moved around, a creaking sound accompanying his joints. "Don't you think that you're a little too old to gossip and giggle like a schoolgirl? Really, I don't know what today's youth is trying to prove by reverting their mentality to five-year-olds," he muttered, tapping a long, clawed finger on the counter, scraping the wood in small patterns.

Sakura almost exploded at the arrogant man, but held back, knowing he was old and probably had a case of Alzheimer's. She looked at the window, noticing a **Help Wanted** sign pushed against the glass.

"You're hiring, Mr. Sasori?" she asked.

Sasori nodded. "Yes. It seems my old age is catching up with me and I can't possibly do as much as I could back in my youth…" he choked back an almost hysterical laugh, his shoulders shaking spastically in amusement.

Sakura thought he was holding back tears. "Oh, Mr. Sasori, I had no idea you felt that way!" she said, rushing to the counter. "I mean, I always thought you were just a mean, sarcastic old man with nothing better to do than annoy your customers with aggravatingly creepy questions and statements. I didn't know you were plagued by the requirement of help!"

Sasori stared at her. "…Am I supposed to say 'Thanks, I feel so much better now'?" he remarked sarcastically.

Sakura ignored the sarcasm. "I know a kid, he's a great worker and pretty strong and capable for his age. I'll bring him by here, okay?" she said.

"Do whatever you like, as my shop is closing in but a few more moments." Sasori replied, turning around away from the young woman.

The pink-haired rookie held up a hand, fearing she might've offended Sasori with her statement about her original thought of him, but decided against trying to talk to him once she saw Ino in the window, gesturing wildly for her to get the hell out of there.

"Bye, Mr. Sasori…" she mumbled as she walked out the door.

The ugly man sighed. "Goodbye Miss Haruno," he replied.

The door shut with an audible "ding" due to the bell over it. Sasori turned back around, looking towards the window in thought. The night sky stretched over the city of Leaf, no star sparkling in the night.

The old man rose from his seat and creakily walked over to the door. "Time to close up, I suppose," he muttered to himself, looking for his keys. He cursed lowly once he remembered their position in his kitchen in the flat upstairs. He flipped the **OPEN** sign over, signifying that the shop was closed, and walked upstairs.

The moment he entered the room, he fell over and face-planted the ground. Soon, his back detached itself from the rest of the body, and a young-looking, red-haired man with brown eyes pulled himself out the hollowed out torso.

"God, Hiruko, you're getting ri_dic_ulously heavy… I have to make some changes to your overall weight, so I won't tire out as easily," Sasori muttered as he pulled his leg out the humanoid puppet. He stood up, but his legs faltered and he almost fell down again. With a face of annoyance, he limped slowly towards the kitchen and found his keys sitting innocently on the counter. Grabbing them, he made his way back downstairs, turning around to close the door to his flat.

The bell over his door sounded, and Sasori spun around, his shaggy red hair getting in his eyes. He brushed the wayward strands out of his sight, and sighed at the man who stood in the middle of his store. The stranger wore baggy, dirty sweat shorts and brown combat boots, along with a white T-shirt that was pretty gray at this point.

And this guy, well, he didn't look too sane.

"Sir, if you haven't noticed, this shop is _closed_." Sasori stated, walking slowly towards the man.

The man mumbled something and twitched his arm, which held his **Help Wanted** sign tightly in a dirty hand. Sasori looked at the intruder in disgust.

"Sir, I'm telling you to _leave_," he snapped.

The stranger looked up slowly, making Sasori take one step back. The man's face was grimy and smeared with dirt, debris, and crusted blood. Black stubble covered his chin, and his black hair was long, limp, and greasy-looking.

But the man's eyes were the most special part about him, and most frightening in Sasori's opinion.

They were a glaring red, like swirling blood.

Sasori furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the confusing man. The dirty man reached into one of his pockets and moved his lips, but no sound came out.

Sasori didn't understand. "Sir, I will call the police if you do not leave now," he snapped. The man had a full body twitch and his eyes widened considerably, as he stumbled towards the redhead, still mouthing his lips.

The red-haired owner turned around, walking for his phone. But the feel of cool metal on his temple stopped him from any more motions.

"I'm only guessing from the top of my head that a gun is in your hand right now, correct?" he asked grumpily. Too many guns have been pointed at him in his lifetime for him to really care about the actual death threat.

The man mumbled something, making Sasori sigh in annoyance. "Please, _speak up_," he told the man.

The voice was raspy, crackling and gritty. "_I…need…help_…" and he fell over on top of Sasori, whose weight was much too little to hold up the larger man.

"Obviously," Sasori commented as he struggled to get from underneath the man. The moment he was back standing, he tried to walk quickly to his phone, but his almost defective legs only faltered again, and he fell down.

"Shit," he muttered, and looked back at the dangerous man on the floor of his shop.

Calling the police, he realized, wouldn't exactly be the smartest move out there. If he called the cops on this guy, then he might've well been calling the cops on _himself_. Especially, since he couldn't call the cops and get Hiruko at the same time, not while his legs were so fucked up.

Turning around, Sasori looked at the man on the ground.

And he sighed. "This is going to be difficult."

* * *

"Hrrmm…" the man groaned as Sasori pulled him up the last stair. The redhead smiled at the man's pain as he used the last of his strength to pull the man through the door. He fell down on his knees after that, unable to move his legs.

"Difficult, I said," he muttered. "I should've known that it would've been more than just _difficult._"

After a moment, he stood up shakily and shut the door to his flat. He limped slowly to his bedroom and sat on his couch, not needing a bed with his conditions. He simply sat there as the pain in his legs ebbed away, trying not to think about the stranger on the floor in his flat.

_I really fucked up this time_, he thought with a small frown. Then he widened his eyes.

"I didn't turn off the lights or lock the door!" he exclaimed, and stood up suddenly.

"Shit," and he fell right back down. "I should go to a doctor for this…"

Sasori stood up slowly and stumbled through the rooms by holding onto various surfaces and the walls. He stepped over the odd man's body with difficulty and opened the flat's door.

Going down the stairs had never looked so difficult until then.

"I really wish I had a banister," Sasori muttered, taking it one step at a time.

Once he finally reached the bottom, he slowly limped towards the door and locked it, the click sounding ominous in the silent store. He flicked the light switch down, instant darkness filling the room.

His weak legs, he noted, were almost spent.

Sasori stumbled slowly up the steps, his legs getting more useless with every step.

And the flat door opened the moment Sasori reached the last step.

Cool metal was pressed onto the redhead's pale white skin on his forehead.

"Ooo, so you're awake?" Sasori purred, his legs trembling underneath him.

The man glared at him, his red eyes swirling. "Where am I?" he demanded in a raspy voice. "Who are you? How did I get here?"

Sasori rolled his eyes, stepping into the doorway and shutting the door behind him. He hated it when people asked stupid questions like that.

"You're in my flat," he answered, walking towards his room. The gun cocked behind him, causing a smirk to come upon his face. "I'm Akasuna, and you can answer your last question yourself."

"I'd rather not," the man replied. "If I ask you such a question, I expect valid answers."

"Oh, so you want to talk _valid answers_, hmm?" the redhead plopped on his couch, head falling back in relaxation. "Such big talk from such an asylum escapee who spoke in mumbles and vague replies. Tell me, do you remember any of that?"

"It is odd that you do not fear the gun I hold in my hand," the man said with a cock of an eyebrow. "I have no qualms about killing you, for the record."

"Then do it. Nothing's stopping you but _you_. Apparently, I can't say or do anything about it, since I'm just a half-crippled old man with a penchant for puppet-making."

"Half-crippled, indeed. If you do not fear a gun, then what can possibly bring you down?"

Sasori laughed sharply. "What type of idiot tells an obviously volatile man his secrets and fears?" he asked in amusement.

"The type with a gun to his head."

"…How _old_ are you, anyway?"

"I am twenty-two. Of what concern is it to you?"

The redhead raised an eyebrow. "Twenty-two?" he barked another laugh. "And you think you can scare me with a gun? Hilarious. Absolutely _hilarious_."

He glared directly into the man's red eyes, smirking all the while. "Boy, I feel it would be the best to get things straightened out here and now so I can either kick you the hell out or keep you. I'm twenty-five years your _senior_, and I've had so much more the amount of weapons held towards me. If you want to get under my skin, you've got to do a little better than _that__, brat_."

The red-eyed man stared back, and he scowled slightly. "I am an adult, so you'd do well to acknowledge me as such. Of course, I couldn't help but think about the part where you say you will kick me out or keep me." He narrowed his eyes. "What makes you so sure I am to be kept like a pet?"

"Oh, I don't know, you tell me," Sasori replied, moving over on the couch. He patted the seat next to him invitingly. "Here, take a seat, _relax_. I can't hurt you, so have this chance."

The stranger did not move.

"Suit yourself," the redhead replied. "I have no bed, so you might as well sleep on the floor for tonight."

"And why do you not have a bed?" the man demanded quietly.

Sasori rolled his eyes. "Why do I need a bed when I don't sleep?" he responded, crossing his legs with effort.

"Hmm…" Was the reply. "You wonder why you're so 'crippled'."

"Wonder? Silly brat, those tricks are for kids. I do believe I'm past my prime on that point. I 'wonder' nothing, as I already know what is wrong with my legs. Muscle deterioration, over-exertion, and my stunted growth in the first place. Yeah, I think I've got it covered."

The older man glanced at the stranger leaning on the doorframe, light from the doorway reflecting off his face.

"Ugh," he grumbled. "I'm tired of staring at your grimy, dirty face. It's disgusting." He looked lazily into his eyes. "How about you let me clean you up a bit?"

"Clean me up?" was the amused response.

"Yes, as in give you a _shave_ for one. I don't know if my eyes are deceiving me, but you just don't look good with a beard _or_ stubble. Sorry, but that's just what I think."

The stranger just stared at him, gun hanging loosely from his fingers.

"So be it," he finally said. "I am rather tired of smelling myself with no effort."

Sasori smirked, slowly standing up. "That's great, because I was too."

He took a step towards the man, but toppled over instead.

"Okay, change in plans," he huffed in annoyance. "How about you help me up, get us to the bathroom in the hallway, and _then_ we get you cleaned up?"

The man smirked. "That'll do." He stuck the gun into the waistband of his pants and came to the side of Sasori, heaving him onto his shoulder with a bit of effort. The redhead smiled deviously and gripped the stranger's shoulder, whispering directions in his ear. This didn't faze the man a bit, as he responded in just a whisper as well.

"Thanks," he said as the man opened the bathroom door. "Could you sit me on the toilet seat? I'll take it from here."

The man let him down on the seat as told and moved to sit on the tub's edge. Sasori stood extremely slowly, feeling around to reach the medicine cabinet.

"So, what's your name?" he asked idly as he pulled out various bottles and objects.

The man cocked an eyebrow. "You're just now asking me this?" he replied.

"_Obviously_. Now, may I get your name please?"

"Itachi."

Sasori smiled quirkily. "But is that your _real_ name?" he questioned.

"You'd be surprised." Sasori snorted, turning on the sink and holding a wash cloth underneath the water.

"I've been surprised so many times that surprises aren't even _surprising_ anymore. Now, sit still, I'm going to clean your face."

Itachi sat stock still as Sasori wiped at his face gently, carefully observing the man's overly smug smirk and the hard feeling he received from the fingertips pressing on the cloth. In a few minutes, Sasori had stopped, holding up the cloth and clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" he asked, gesturing towards the dirty brown cloth he held in his hands. Itachi just felt his face, marveling at the smoothness that was probably lost for quite a while.

That is, until his reached his mouth area and his chin.

"You can shave in the shower," Sasori said aloud. "There are various shampoos and body washes here on the sink for you to use, along with a safety razor and a toothbrush. Don't screw anything up, please."

Itachi looked up in curiosity. "If I was just going to take a shower inevitably, then why wash my face in the first place?"

"Oh, that was just to see if you would let me touch you while your guard was down for a moment. Regardless, I'm done in here, so, once again, don't fuck anything up."

He slammed the door behind him. Itachi smirked as he heard an audible bump behind the wooden door.

He turned around to the tub and stared at the showerhead in wonder.

"How does this work again…?" he asked aloud to himself. He turned a random knob, almost jumping back as the water sprayed down in the tub. He stripped himself of his clothing and grabbed a few of the bottles on the sink.

"That answers one question."

* * *

Sasori sat on the couch in his room, coursing through a magazine idly as he waited for his unorthodox guest to come out the bathroom.

The sound of a door opening was heard, and he smirked.

"Speak of the devil," he said amusingly as Itachi padded barefoot into his room, wearing only a towel. "And such a handsome devil he is as well."

Itachi stared impassively. "I suppose," he grunted. He rubbed his cleanly shaven chin, marveling at how much better one could feel with a few swipes to the chin and around the mouth. The rest of his body also felt much better after the thorough shower he took.

"Of course you suppose. I'm guessing you might want some clothes, hmm?"

His answer was an obvious stare.

Sasori sniffed. "It was only a question, don't get offended," he said, miffed. "But unfortunately, since you haven't noticed, I'm about half your size in height and build, so anything of mine will probably make you look like a whore."

Itachi looked the smaller man up and down, noting that his unanticipated host really was quite petite. He wasn't too bad looking either, if you didn't count the fact that he looked thirty years younger than he really was.

"Fortunately," Sasori continued. "I _do_ have clothes about your size, or bigger, it varies."

"Must you speak?" Itachi grumbled. "Can you not just retrieve the clothes?"

The redhead smirked. "Maybe I like talking to you," he replied, standing up carefully. "Maybe I want to know what's going on in your mind." He walked up to Itachi, grabbing the man roughly by his shoulders and standing up on the tips of his toes. "Maybe I like to hear your rough, husky voice," he whispered in the black-haired man's ear.

Itachi almost growled, but Sasori pushed him away playfully, chuckling. "Kids these days," he muttered in amusement. "Inevitably, those were all maybes, and knowing myself, they probably aren't even true."

The smaller man laughed at the irritated expression on Itachi's face. "Sorry brat, don't get your hopes up. You're just a little too young for me."

He grabbed onto a surface and used it to hold himself up as he stumbled across the room towards a large wooden dresser. He waved Itachi over, opening a drawer on the middle and pulling out a large plain black shirt.

"I hope it fits," he said. "I think I may have a pair of pants that won't make you look like a prostitute, ah, yes, here there are." He handed the younger man a pair of blue jeans. "I'm sorry, but I have no underwear of any sort for you. _My_ normal briefs would be like, I don't know, a _thong_ on you."

"Nice imagery," Itachi replied blandly, pulling the shirt down over his taut stomach.

"I try." Sasori replied with a smirk.

"If you're not wearing these clothes, then where did they come from?" the red-eyed man asked, blowing strands of hair away from his eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Sasori replied, making it back to his couch and sitting right back down. "Aren't you tired?"

Itachi leaned on the wall adjacent from the redhead. "Sleep and allow you to call the police while I'm unconscious?" he snorted. "I'd rather not."

"If I _really_ wanted to call the police, believe me when I say I've had plenty of chances."

"Then why did you not?"

Sasori snickered. "My, aren't we full of questions? Let's wait until the morning, when the sun shines overhead and maybe you're magically gone, which would be wonderful."

"It'd be only too easy."

"True. But you've still got to get the fuck out tomorrow."

"…Whatever."

* * *

Regardless of whatever was spoken the previous night, Itachi did fall asleep. He may have been standing up, leaning on the wall with crossed arms along with his gun in one of his hands, and his eyes might've been wide open, but he was still asleep.

Sasori almost laughed aloud at the realization as he passed the man to get to Hiruko. His legs, slightly better now that they've had a few hours to rest, only stumbled a little as he got to his puppet, chuckling quietly. Hiruko still lied on the ground, open, in the living room. The puppeteer didn't understand how Itachi couldn't _not_ see it, considering how it was all out in the open.

He let the thought trail off, only imagining the response he might receive when he came back up to his flat.

Once he was inside the puppet, all it took was simple physical manipulation to make it move. Sasori made it to the doorway, and laughed aloud inside Hiruko at the simplicity of the otherwise dangerous situation including him and Itachi.

He heaved down the stairs slowly, closing the flat door behind him with an audible click.

The flesh-colored wooden hand reached out and flipped the **C****LOSED** sign over, signifying that the store was open for the day.

Sitting behind the counter, Sasori maneuvered Hiruko's hand to a broken doll beneath the countertop, grabbing the tools needed to fix it as well. Beginning the initial repairs, the man vaguely observed his surroundings, the first patron to enter the shop, and the cat-eyed clock behind him.

The day passed in a blur, the people almost forgotten the moment they walked through and out. Soon enough, it was already about five fifty, which meant it was almost time for him to close up.

Except, one more person walked through the door, setting off the little bell.

It was a boy, Sasori noted, probably no older than eighteen. He was tall, slim, pale, and darkly-dressed. His black hair was flat and spiked at the ends in the back, and his dark eyes were impassive.

_Familiar_, the redhead said to himself.

"May I help you?" he asked, adopting a deeper voice than normal.

The boy looked at him. "I heard you can repair toys and shit like that," he said in a haughty baritone.

Sasori smirked, cocking his head to the side. "And if you heard correctly, then what would this visit be for?" he replied.

"Well, if you'd cut the crap, then I could tell you."

_Angry, good-looking, young…I bet he knocks all the girls off their feet._ "Consider the crap cut, now you can get on with your order."

The teenager glared darkly at him and reached into his black knapsack, pulling out a thick cardboard box. "It's been fucked up to the point so that it's beyond repair, at least that's what all the other toy repairers told me. I'd like it if you proved the fuckers wrong, because I'd really like to see this fixed," he said with a growling undertone.

Sasori took the box, slicing through the tape with a sharp wooden finger. He looked inside and cocked an eyebrow at the mangled remnants of _something_ laid inside, seemingly beyond any type of maintenance.

"They said it was beyond repair?" Sasori asked in amusement. "This isn't even a _challenge_ for me."

The teenager glared at him for a moment, before breaking into a small smile.

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied. "When do you think you'll have it done?"

"Three days, at the most. But first, I need to get your name so I can tell it apart from all my other repairs."

"Sasuke Uchiha," the teen answered, lip curling in what was probably disgust.

"Do you not like your name or what?" Sasori asked as he scribbled the boy's name on a steno pad.

Sasuke shrugged. "I don't hate it; I just hate what comes with it."

"Hmm, interesting. Well, my young patron, as I said, it should be done in about three days. Check back with me then, all right?" he looked up at his clock. "It's about closing time for the shop kid."

The black-haired teen shouldered his bag and waved a hand. "All right, I'm getting the fuck out," he said in amusement. He nodded at Sasori as he exited. "Later."

The redhead shook his head and laughed. "This generation surprises me every day." He made Hiruko move from behind the counter, clutching the keys in two fingers carefully. Flipping the **Open **sign back over, he locked up the doors and flicked off the lights. Then he made his way back to the counter, grabbing the cardboard box Sasuke had left him and the tools needed.

He walked up the stairs, anticipating the reaction he'd receive from his paranoid houseguest.

Opening the door, Hiruko took one step into the room.

And the barrel of a pistol was pressed right between his eyes.

"Who are you?" Itachi growled angrily. "What the fuck are you doing up here?"

Sasori rolled his eyes. "And here we go again with the stupid questions," he responded, grabbing the barrel of the gun with Hiruko's hand. He crushed the metal easily, twisting the barrel much like a Q. "Now we've only got two options left, Itachi. You pull the trigger and lose your hand and maybe part of your arm, _or_ you put the gun in the trash and let me get this fucking puppet off."

He released the gun, making Itachi looked at the mangled weapon almost dumbfounded.

"Let me pass?" Sasori asked in pseudo-sweetness. It _was_ rather reassuring to know he had his own guard dog without even realizing it.

Itachi glanced at him emotionlessly. "You could've just said you were Sasori," he muttered.

"Ah, but would you have believed me?"

"Of course not, but you still could've tried instead of crushing my gun."

"True, but I've wanted to get rid of that gun for a while. It annoys me when people hold weapons at me, but never use them unless trying to threaten me." Sasori moved towards the living room in a darker corner away from the window. Soon, the large puppet fell over, and Sasori opened the back of it, climbing out.

"Surprise!" he said, placing his hands on his hips.

"Woo." Itachi replied, picking up a book from the basket next to the living room's couch. He still stood up, beginning to read the thick book.

The redhead smirked. "So boring," he said, picking up the box and the tools from one of Hiruko's hands. He moved towards his room, his legs throbbing in pain with each step. When he looked behind himself, he noticed the taller man following him into his room.

"Why do you insist on following me?" Sasori asked in slight annoyance.

Itachi smirked. "Can you think of anything else better for me to do?"

"Yes. Getting the hell out of Sasori's flat."

"Hmm, and what are you going to do if I don't?" the red-eyed man snorted. "Call the police?" He immediately went back to the book, staring unblinkingly at the pages.

_And woe is me, as you might see; I've taken in a man with OCD._ Sasori thought sarcastically, opening the box and pulling out the various parts of Sasuke's toy. Itachi didn't look up, leaning on the wall in his usual manner and turning the pages of the book.

Sasori went to work on the pieces, immediately identifying the various parts and examining the structures.

After a few minutes, the man finally got his priorities straight and stood up, stretching.

"I'm going to the bathroom to take a shower, brat," he told Itachi. "I expect my privacy, so do not follow me. At all. In fact, go outside and walk around, maybe _never come back_ too."

Itachi snorted. "What am I, a dog?" he replied in a grumble. He brushed his hair away from his eyes. "Your body is probably wrinkled and old underneath those loose clothes."

The redhead smirked. "If it will keep you from getting attracted to me, then yes, I am very wrinkly and old underneath these loose clothes." And he limped away, laughing lightly.

The long-haired man just ignored the sound and turned a page in his book, trying not to think about how Akasuna _really_ looked underneath his clothes.

But he didn't act on it, because the book was really interesting.

And besides, Akasuna was probably just bad news to begin with.

_Not too much unlike me,_ Itachi thought. _I suppose we've got something in common, but that's about it._

"Yes," he told himself aloud. "That's about it. The only reason why I stick around."

It's always better to not admit an obsession, of course.

* * *

The next day, Itachi slept at the kitchen table, his eyes still wide open and unseeing. Sasori was slightly irked at the man's sleeping habits, but ignored them in favor of getting in Hiruko and getting back down to his shop to open up.

Once again, the day was almost over before he realized it, and the little bell went off once more with the last person to enter.

"Hey," Sasuke greeted, coming to the counter. "How's the project going?"

Sasori chuckled. "Impatient aren't we?" he asked.

"Fuck yeah I'm impatient," the teenager replied grumpily. "I want my shit fixed, you know?"

"Right, right. The progress is coming along. I told you it'd be done in a few days, so why not come back then?"

Sasuke yawned. "I don't know, nor do I care. I guess I wanted to come back 'cause this place doesn't make me feel so angry."

"You're an angry person?" …_How did I know?_

"Yeah, I take anger management at the YMCA and everything," he blew his bangs away from his eyes. "Not that it helps or anything. Fucking shitty program, the anger management thing is."

"So what do they do there to make you do there to get you so annoyed?"

"Stupid ways to calm your anger and shit like that. Like, counting back from 100. I get to 72, and I'm only even more pissed 'cause I'm wondering why the fuck am I counting backwards in the first place." Sasuke glared at the shelf that held all the toddler toys. "Bunch of fucking _idiots_ work there, that's for sure."

This kid was hilarious to Sasori.

"Really?" he asked. "So what makes you so angry?"

The dark-haired boy tensed up. "…Shit, you know. This and that, and all that crap." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't have any words for it, you know?"

"I know, and it's almost closing time kid. Vent a little more, and then get out."

Sasuke smirked. "Yeah, I know. All right, I'm leaving then if that's what you want."

"Oh yes, I'd like that a lot."

"…You're pretty funny, old man."

"You are too, kid. Now seriously, leave."

The teen waved a hand at Sasori as he exited out the door. "See ya," he said.

Sasori waved back. "Goodbye."

"What is that contraption you're working on?" Itachi asked that night, still leaning on the wall.

Sasori didn't look up from his repairs. "It's a toy car, that's for sure." He twisted a bolt on the wood. "A customer requested its repair, and it was in shambles before I got it."

Itachi grunted. "Huh," he replied. "It looked really familiar, so I was wondering."

"Oh yes, the build is quite common."

The man shook his head lightly. "I gave a toy car like that to my little brother years ago. It just makes me think when I look at it."

The redhead cocked an eyebrow. "Interesting," he commented slowly. "Now it's making _me_ think."

Itachi glanced back at the toy. "Right."

The only sound in the room for the next hour was the tinkering from Sasori and the tick of the clock far off in the living room. Itachi simply stared, watching the redhead's hands move skillfully.

"You've been doing this for a long time, I'd suppose," he said.

Sasori smirked. "Thirty-five years and going. My grandmother taught me when I was young, and I've never stopped since."

Itachi blew strands of hair away from his eyes. "Is your grandmother still alive?" he asked.

"I hope to God that bitch isn't." Sasori's expression darkened. "I swore I'd fucking kill her if she didn't fall over first."

"What happened between you and her?"

"Why are you hiding out in my flat?"

There was no answer. Sasori smiled victoriously.

"See?" he said to the other man. "We've all got our skeletons in the closet. And I'd prefer if they stayed there, to rot until the day I _die_."

Itachi didn't reply, choosing to instead stare apathetically at the puppeteer's actions in fixing the toy car.

The brown-eyed man cocked an eyebrow. "Is there something you'd like to say?"

"…I want to see if I can fix that toy," the red-eyed man said quietly. "My hands are itching to try."

"Have you ever fixed anything in your lifetime, brat?"

"No, I have a habit of ruining more than repairing."

"Then what makes you so sure that you could try to fix it?"

Itachi smirked, his red eyes flashing. "You'd be surprised."

Sasori raised the other eyebrow in suspicion (although it was a bit too late for that), and pushed the toy car towards the other man.

"The only reason I'm even letting you try," he said. "Is because I can easily fix it up again if you fuck it up. Now, go on, _try_."

Once he sat down cross-legged on the ground, Itachi held the toy car in his right hand, a Philips screwdriver in the left. Picking up the discarded wheel on the side, he easily mimicked Sasori's movements and reassembled the wheel to the axle and connected it to the actual car.

He flicked a finger on the wheel, making it spin slowly and unsteadily.

Sasori was almost impressed. "You've never fixed a toy before?" he asked.

"Never." Itachi replied with a weak shrug. He flipped his bangs off his face. "I just can copy movements very well."

The redhead huffed, taking back the car and the tools. "So you actually might be more useful than I thought, huh, brat?" he muttered. Itachi leaned forward, getting in his face.

"Why must you speak like that?" he demanded quietly. "You constantly talk as though you are far above me, in a demeaning tone that only irritates me. I am an adult, so treat me like one!"

Sasori sneered, pushing Itachi's face away with a single finger. "And what makes you think I'm doing such a thing?" he replied. "The way _you_, on the other hand, were just speaking to me makes it seem as though you are worth more than dirt, but that can't possibly be true, considering how you continue to hide out in my flat like a coward."

The red-eyed man grabbed the other man's hand away from his face, clenching the hard limb in slow rage. Sasori dropped the toy car, the wheel Itachi fixed breaking off the rest of the car.

"What makes you such a special man, to speak of _my_ worth and bravery?" he hissed. "Don't you hide out in a giant puppet, fearing discovery?"

"And what makes _you_ such an ungrateful bastard to assault me in my own home, which you are very unwelcome from?" the redhead retorted.

"You act like this has never happened before, _Akasuna_, oh no, my apologies, _Sasori_." Itachi came even closer to the other's face, his quick breaths mingling with Sasori's slow, steady ones. "I am no idiot, as I _did_ watch the news about nine years ago. Or maybe it was criminal instinct, since you so vehemently refused to call the police yet quite obviously rebuke my existence in your household!"

Sasori flushed, glaring heatedly. "I did nothing to hide it!" he replied angrily. "You must understand the reasons for me allowing you to stay, as I've been hidden for this long and it would be a waste to have it all fall to ruins due to _your_ idiocy!"

Itachi smirked, following Sasori as he backed up. "You're losing your cool, old man. So you aren't afraid of a gun, but you fear someone finding the cracks in your façade?" he barked a raspy laugh. "Too ironic."

"Boy, I _will_ make you regret coming even _one_ step closer!"

"'Boy'?" the red-eyed man hissed, grabbing Sasori's other hand and backing him onto the edge of the couch. "I've told you twice, and I refuse to say it again! I am no child!"

"Now who's losing his cool?" the puppeteer purred, his finger's wriggling in Itachi's harsh grasp. "I daresay you are a child, since you _insist_ on asserting your strength on me like a playground bully."

"Playground bully?" Itachi asked, his voice falling back to his normal, apathetic tone. "That's a little insulting to me."

Sasori grinned harshly, his narrowed eyes sparking with a sinister glint.

"And what will you do about it?"

"This."

Itachi pressed his lips on Sasori's, gripping his hands tighter.

"Brat, I told you not to get attracted," the redhead man whispered smugly on the other's lips.

Itachi smirked. "I don't listen to people with morals lower than mine," he whispered back, and kissed him harder. Sasori glared, moving around roughly to make the man let go of him. The hands around his wrists just tightened and he heard a thin crack.

Once, the younger man let up the kissing, Sasori let in an exasperated breath.

"Apparently you do not understand that by fucking me, _nobody wins_."

"And how is this so? After all, we've got _so_ much in common," Itachi responded sarcastically.

"For one, brat, I'm a little over twenty years older than you. Not good. Secondly, when two wanted criminals have sex, it feels like prison. And third, attachments aren't the 'in' thing, so stop while you're ahead."

Itachi clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth condescendingly. "I don't care about age, since attraction obviously knows no bounds. I've never had prison-sex, and if I end up there again after this, I'll know what and who to compare it to. And lastly," Itachi released one of Sasori's hands, the limb falling weakly to the redhead's side.

"I'm not attached, just a little obsessed."

"Like that makes it so much better."

The black-haired man kissed him again, smiling cruelly against his lips. "No one said it had to."

Sasori chuckled, and opened his eyes to a half-lidded state.

"For the record, I don't consent to any of this."

"No one asked you to, old man."

This might be the best way to get over this little obsession of his.

* * *

"Old man, you okay?" Sasuke asked, cocking an eyebrow at the unusually quiet man at the counter.

Sasori snapped up, looking around wildly. He finally settled on Sasuke, and let out a sigh.

"Oh, it's just you," he said.

The pale teen scowled. "Yeah, it's just me. Is it fucking ready yet?"

"Oh, yes, _that_. It'll be ready tomorrow, like I said before."

"Damn, old man, you're really out of it today." Sasuke commented, leaning on the counter. "What happened to the creepy, sardonic old guy that always has something smartass to say? I miss him."

Sasori snorted in amusement. "And you've know me for, what, three days now?" he replied. "Can you really make such an accurate judge of character?"

"Hell no, but I _can_ listen to rumors that keep around in this city."

"Hmm, maybe you can."

"So, you said it'll definitely be ready tomorrow."

"Yes I did."

"I guess I'll just be back by tomorrow then."

"I guess you will."

Sasuke groaned. "Ah, you're so fucking boring today. But, whatever, I got to get to the YMCA anyway."

"For your anger management classes?"

"For my goddamn anger management classes. Later, old man."

Sasori rolled his eyes in amusement. "The same," he said.

And Sasuke left. Sasori followed after him slowly to close up, but the door was harshly reopened to let in a tall, silver-haired man with an eye patch, wearing a casual dress suit and two younger people in the common police officer's outfits.

"Sasori Akasuna?" the one-eyed man asked with a smile.

The man nodded, smirking underneath the puppet. "Yes? How may I help you?"

"Inspector Kakashi Hatake," the other man greeted, holding out his wallet with his police ID. "And these two are the newest rookies, Sakura Haruno and Sai Taido. We're with the police."

"Or so I guessed." Sasori replied sarcastically.

Kakashi ignored the comment. "We just received a call from one Tsume Inuzuka, who lives in the building just behind yours. She claims that she heard screaming early at about twelve thirty to one o'clock in the morning. She cannot say that she knew what being said, but knows for sure that there was more than one person." He grinned at the hunchbacked man. "And considering the full alert we're on for the missing criminal, Itachi Uchiha, we take situations like these _very_ serious."

Sasori inwardly sighed. _Fuck you Itachi. Fuck you getting me caught up in your mess, fuck you for possibly getting me busted, and fuck you for fucking me._ "Why, officer I have no idea towards what Miss Inuzuka could've possibly been speaking of!" _And fuck you, Inuzuka, for getting caught up in my business._

Kakashi shrugged, and stepped back, allowing the two rookies to come forward.

Sakura coughed into her fist professionally. "We have evidence to prove that there might have been someone else in your home, Mr. Akasuna," she explained.

The older man stepped back. "How so?"

Sai smirked. "Ever heard of a camera, Mr. Akasuna?" he taunted in his light tenor. "Despite how a man as ugly as you probably breaks the lenses as soon as they focus on your disgusting mug, Miss Inuzuka did have photographical evidence of another person in your flat."

"How so?"

"Her son, Mr. Kiba Inuzuka, had just gotten a new cellular phone two days ago," Kakashi answered this time. "The phone comes with camera capabilities, as noted. As practice, just to see if it was in working order, he took a picture of your back window. He, as quoted, 'just wanted to peep out that creep Sasori's pad', unquoted, and took a fairly good picture of a man who was only slightly shadowed from your back window."

Sasori held up a hand. "A few questions, if I may."

"Shoot."

"First off, what makes her so sure that wasn't me?"

Sai snorted. "Uh, _hello_, the man had a neck for one."

The old man ignored him. "Secondly, why didn't she call the police earlier? And lastly, what makes her so sure the screams were from _my_ flat?"

Kakashi scratched his lightly stubble-ridden chin. "For the first question, Sai actually had a point. The man was _quite_ differently built than you, no offense."

"None taken."

"Great. Second, she claims that she didn't feel the need to at the time. And finally, you know and I know that the Inuzuka family has extremely sensitive auditory senses. It's been clinically proven. Anymore questions?"

"No, I think I'm out." _And fuck you Inuzuka brat for not minding your own business._

"Awesome." Kakashi grinned, pulling a wrinkled sheet of paper out his back pocket. "Oh, and we've got a warrant and we're going to search your flat."

Well damn.

"I'd rather you not," Sasori said in a calm tone of voice. "There are things up there that I'd prefer you not see."

"Don't worry, we're only going to poke around a little, and we aren't going to take anything unsuspicious." Sakura reassured.

_Not helpful. Hello prison, it'll be nice seeing you again._ Sasori huffed. "If you must, then so be it," he said in a tone of finalization.

Sai rolled his eyes, already up the steps. "No one asked you, Fugly," he sneered, roughly attempting to open the locked flat door.

"I'd be a bit gentler in handling that door. I've got a hint of a guard dog, if you'd call him that." Sasori called, idly wondering if he could turn the overconfident brat into a puppet. Then he might be less of a smartass.

"Guard dog?" Sakura asked. "I didn't know you had a dog."

"I don't." The puppeteer replied, smirking in an unholy smug manner underneath Hiruko's shell.

The door banged open, and a pale hand whipped out and grabbed Sai by his neck.

"Who are you?" Itachi's calm voice demanded.

Kakashi stepped up, twirling a pair of handcuffs on his index finger. "Hey there," he greeted.

"I'm going to guess that you're with the police," the red-eyed man deadpanned.

The brunet he was choke-holding rolled his eyes. "What, did you figure that out all by yourself?" he wheezed sarcastically. Sasori shook his head, marveling at the man's idiocy.

The white-haired man yawned. "Yeah, we're with the police. The name's Inspector Hatake, along with Rookie Officer Haruno and Rookie Officer Taido, who you currently hold in your hand. Itachi Uchiha, correct?" he asked.

"Yes." Itachi replied, releasing Sai, making the young man fall to his knees, gasping for breath.

"Sorry to say this, but you're under arrest. I suggest you consent and come quietly and calmly."

The long haired man cocked an eyebrow. "And if I don't?"

Kakashi laughed. "Well, then I'll tell you that we've got you surrounded."

The front door of the shop burst open, and several cops poured inside, all pointing their guns at the deceptively calm criminal at the top of the stairs.

Itachi sighed and held up his hands. "I guess I can't resist now." He stepped down the stairs, hands held up high. Kakashi nodded at him, and Itachi's arms were lowered towards his back, where the officer snapped the handcuffs on him. He was led out the store slowly, but he turned around and looked at Sasori once more.

"It was fun while it lasted," he said. "I kind of wish it could've been a little longer. And maybe we could've done it again."

Sasori leaned his head on a clawed hand. "Maybe, you insane brat. But maybes are kind of out of the question now."

Itachi faced forward, a smile on the edge of his lips. "Maybe." He was pushed out the door roughly and directed towards one of the many screeching police cruisers outside.

A tall, young man with long brown hair, gray eyes, donning the common police uniform stepped up to Sasori's counter. "Officer Neji Hyuuga," he greeted. "Mr. Akasuna, we're going to have to take you in for questioning."

The older man sighed, staring out his window at all the flashing red and blue lights from all the police cars just outside his shop.

All the newspapers would have a field day tomorrow.

"Sure," he finally answered.

* * *

"And you're _positive_ that you had no idea he was a criminal?" Kakashi urged, staring directly into the beady, black eyes of Hiruko.

"Absolutely." Sasori answered cockily, inwardly laughing in hilarity at all the little wires stuck to a puppet's body for the lie detector.

The man wearing large headphones at the corner of the room observed the zigzagging lines on the long sheets of paper. Snapping his gum, he gave Kakashi a thumb up.

"So, you aren't lying," the inspector said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"I guess not."

"Then, if you had no idea he was a criminal, then how did you find him and get his name?"

"He had passed out in front of my shop, and I'd never let a poor soul just lay there in the cold, apparently weak, dirty, and hungry."

Kakashi cocked an eyebrow. "Yet the general opinion of you is that you're a mean, sarcastic old man with a bad case of Alzheimer's."

"Lies, all of them are lies." Sasori laughed harder inside.

"All right, so you apparently took him in. And he told you him name was Itachi Uchiha, correct?"

"No, he told me his name was Itachi. I just assumed that it was a coincidence that he had the same first name of a highly wanted criminal."

"How can you so simply concede that it must've been coincidence?"

"My name is Sasori Akasuna. I _have_ been hassled for coincidently having the same name as a wanted criminal, so I suppose that I sympathized with the poor boy."

Kakashi rubbed his temples. "Genma, is he telling the truth?" he asked the man in the corner.

Genma gave him another thumb up, blowing a bubble with his gum.

He turned back to Sasori. "Every single thing you've said so far was the truth," he said. "But that just can't be absolute, as everyone lies at some point while under these types of situations, even if only to save their asses."

"Well, I guess I'm just not the ordinary person, now am I?"

"I guess not." The inspector grumbled. He smiled sheepishly at the hunchbacked man, scratching behind his head. "I'll see right now if we can release you, since we've asked all the questions."

"That'll be great. And it was nice speaking with you as well, Inspector Hatake."

"Yeah, likewise."

* * *

Just as Sasori had predicted, the media had a joyride with the ever-so-scandalous news. And, business picked up as usual, with a few perks due to the gossiping old women who walked in just to gossip and see if what the newspapers/news said was really true.

Although, the Inuzuka brat had an even more joyous time with the news, frolicking about bragging of his amazing sleuth skills.

But, the forty-seven-year-old man did not care about any of those things as he rolled a toy car on the countertop with one clawed finger.

And, once more, the bell signifying a patron's entry went off.

Sasori looked up, and smirked at the pale teenager.

"Hey Sasuke," he greeted. "How's it going?"

Sasuke looked away from him. "I heard Itachi was hiding out here," he said quietly.

The puppeteer nodded. "He was, but I had no idea he was a criminal and your brother until yesterday."

"It's not about that, I know you didn't know." Sasori held back an amused snort. "But, the thing is that I wanted to know if the toy car was fixed yet."

The sharp finger rolled the car towards the teen. "Why don't you see for yourself?" he asked.

Sasuke picked up the toy and rolled the wheels around with a finger.

"Did Itachi have anything to do with fixing this?" he wondered aloud.

Sasori nodded. "He wanted to try, so I let him. It seems he's pretty good at copying things like movements." The puppeteer failed to tell the darkly-dressed boy that Itachi, in all actuality, fixed the rest of the toy car. Sasori only did half of the work.

"Huh," the younger one replied.

And he threw the toy at the wall behind Sasori. It broke into several pieces on impact.

"I don't want any fucking thing that was touched by that fucker," Sasuke seethed. "I'll pay you _double_, but I want _you_ to fix it, with your own damn hands."

Sasori remained nonplused. "If I must," he said with pseudo-resignation. "I'll make sure that it's first on my To-Do list."

"You fucking better," the Uchiha said with a small grin. "I'll be back tomorrow to check on the progress, all right old man?"

"All right brat."

Sasuke flipped a salute as he shouldered his bag. "See ya, Sasori."

"Goodbye."

And the dark-haired teen walked towards the door, which opened before he could touch it.

A blond-haired teenager with bright clothes bounded in, bumping accidentally into Sasuke.

"Watch it, fucktard!" the pale boy hissed.

"Stick it, asshole!" the other retorted.

They glared heatedly at each other before Sasuke walked out, waving at Sasori. The other teenager walked up to his counter, waving a certain sign in his right hand.

"Help wanted, right?" the boy asked, grinning. The whiskered lines on his cheeks stretched with his bright smile. "The name's Naruto, Naruto Uzumaki. I'm sixteen, and ready for work. The Beautiful and Perfect Officer Sakura recommended me here for a job. I'm young, awesome, and really dedicated, so will you give me a chance?"

Sasori stared at the boy in front of him for a long moment.

And he chuckled gently.

"You are pretty awesome, I guess," he said, pulling out a sheet of paper from one of the shelves behind the counter. "Just fill out this application and you can start tomorrow."

Naruto looked shocked. "Really?! Wow, no one's ever considered hiring me for real before!" he gasped. "Do I have a dress code?! Are there any secret rules I've gotta follow?! Are you jerkin' my chain here?"

Sasori cut off the loquacious chain of words with a gentle pat to the blonds' head.

"Yes, I'm serious. Now just fill out the application and you'll start tomorrow, like I said, okay?"

"Okay!"

The older man laughed lightly as the teen fumbled around his backpack for a pen or pencil, muttering all the while.

* * *

"Hey, Pein? It's Sasori."

"_Yeah, I kinda guessed that part. Caller ID and all._" The phone crackled lightly.

"I need a favor."

"_Lemme guess, need__ me__ to break a certain someone out of jail?_"

Sasori cocked an eyebrow. "How'd you know that?"

Pein yawned over the phone. "_Criminal instinct or some shit like that. I don't work for free Sasori, you know this. He good for anything?_"

"Great at mimicking movements and handling weapons. He's also kind of strong, or maybe not, since it doesn't take too much to hold me down."

Pein laughed. "_What're you, a whore? C'mon, you can get fucked by him but not me?_"

"Not the point Pein, not the point. So, will you do it?"

"_Sure, but I'll put him right back if he's useless._"

"That's all I needed to know."

"_All right._" The man on the other line yawned once more. "_Later_."

"Goodbye."

And he hung up the phone, running his prosthetic hands through his red hair.

Itachi had better be thankful for this.

And if things go his way, the red-eyed man won't need to compare prison-sex to anyone.

But, if Pein had his way, Itachi would probably be kept far away from Sasori.

This was fine for the older man, because it was supposed to be a one-time thing anyway.

And Sasori just doesn't do encores.

**END**

* * *

_**IT'S A NEW RECORD! **_**SCORE: **_**AAAAAAAA**_ (DDR reference, FYI)

NO MORE.

I CANNOT TYPE _ANYMORE_.

OH MY GOD, THIS WAS HORRIBLE.

Not horrible as in "Oh God it sucked ass" horrible, but more of a "Jesus Christ on a popsicle stick it was so fucking long and hard to stop in the middle cuz then the plot would've been more 'wtf' than it already is" horrible.

RuneMoon, I really, _really_ hope you liked this. _Really_.

OH GOD, the letter 'S' has been permanently imprinted into my index finger.

I always told myself that I could never write a one-shot over 5,000 words.

That is why this 9,000 worded one-shot TAKES THE FUCKING CAKE.

It was only supposed to be 5,000 words originally, but then it got out of control since I started to speculate on the little things like "Wait a minute, didn't Sakura know in depth about the whole Itachi thing in BB" or "Sasuke must have _some_ sort of feelings towards Itachi's temporary residence with Sasori"

Yeah.

Okay, of course, any and all feedback towards how I did is absolutely welcome. I'd also appreciate any and all constructive criticism, especially considering someone _did_ beta this.

I DID.

That's right, I am my own beta :D

Thanks for reading.


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